What The Water Gave Me
by tealtype
Summary: A storm has never been a good omen for a marriage. AU Sigyn/Loki
1. Chapter 1

**What The Water Gave Me**

**Prompt: **A storm setting

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Thor.

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><p>It rained the night before their wedding and it made her ache for home when she carefully stepped out into the garden, letting the rain destroy the elaborate hairstyle that had forced her to be still for a good part of the morning. She wondered if her mother would come, stand at the edge and shout for her to come inside immediately.<p>

"You'll catch your death."

Her mother's words rang in her ears. She glanced back, imagining her mother there for a second, arms curled around her chest, dark hair swept back.

"Good."

She walked forward, letting the rain ruin everything, her dress, her hair, her make-up. Her mother had frankly outlined her future once, her hands on her daughter's shoulders. She would be expected to be a wife and a mother. All the excitement and adventure would come to an end.

"You're to be a bride now," she had said, quite calmly.

There would be no more running off, no more life, she thought dismally. Like a trinket, she would belong to her husband and be his to do with what he pleased.

She knew that preparations were occurring for the wedding, that long into the night servants would be making everything perfect for the formal uniting of two lands. She wandered through flowers, letting her bare feet step gingerly across the wet grass. She hated to be considered a pawn, something for purely political moves.

"There was nothing we could do," her mother had said, slipping her arms around her daughter's shoulders. "I'm sorry."

She used her sleeve to wipe off the remainder of the paint on her face, glad to see the stain on the fabric rather than her skin. She had yet to speak to her bridegroom, angry that it wasn't considered necessary for them to actually speak. It was considered acceptable for them to be seated across the room from each other, catching occasional glances.

She had not been sure of what to make of him. He was quiet, the dark haired one, a second born prince. That had driven her mother into a rage. "They cannot even give their precious heir." He had not become intoxicated, had not joined in the crude humor that the other men engaged in. She decided that either made him dull or refined.

She paused when she heard the sound of someone coming. She turned, expecting her mother and the lecture that would follow. Yet, the smile she had prepared disappeared when she saw him there.

"What do you want?" She asked, turning back, letting the feel of the rain engulf her.

"We are to be married."

"And it's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding," she said, turning to look at him. The anger that had occupied her chest throughout the feast faded when she met his gaze. She had heard it and could see it in his eyes; he had the same reservations.

"I know but we should discuss the arrangement we will enter into."

She frowned, focusing gray eyes on him. The rain had made his hair stick to his face, lose the clean look that he always had. It stained his clothes like it had hers, making it blacker, if such a thing was possible, like it had dyed her pastel dress, a shade of deeper blue.

"I understand quite clearly what is expected of me," she said, turning on her heel, refusing to look at him. "I am to be your wife, bear your children, be there."

He stood still while she walked away. "I came to speak with you," he said. "I would prefer to know you."

She stopped, looking back at him. "What?"

"I did not ask for this. I am sure you did not either." They face each other for, what she imagines, are hours. Her wet hair drapes over her shoulders, her dress beyond saving, she is sure. When thunder cracks, he holds out his hand. "We should go inside."

She nods, taking his hand. The halls were quiet when they walked, neither speaking. He stopped at her room, dropping her hand. Her hand grasped the handle when she made a decision and looked back at him. "You wanted to talk," she said suddenly. "Please, come in."

For the rest of the night, they sat, both soaking, talking about everything. She told him about her childhood while he talked about his interest in magic. He left when the clouds were gone and the beginnings of a sunrise were spotted on the horizon.

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><p>The entire ceremony had her hiding yawns, the dark lines under her eyes hidden by excessive amounts of make-up. She was thankful when they let her go, taking refuge in her own room. She was about to finally sleep when he walked in, partly on his own accord and partly pushed. However, before she has time to say something, he collapsed beside her on the bed.<p>

She turned, looking at him, already seemingly quite asleep. "Why would you be so kind?" She whispered, accepting sleep.

"Because you are not property," he said, voice thick with sleep, eyes still closed.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Because in my mind, I've already worked out how Sigyn/Loki could be completely and utterly canon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

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><p>Odin retired from the ceremony, running a hand over his face. One more step was done, he thought. He glanced at his wife who was smiling, still enchanted by the wedding ceremony. To her it had been a wedding, he knew, nothing more than a wedding. Perhaps, he thought, she had seen the vague politics that were underlying the whole ceremony, had seen the intentions to unite kingdoms without really sacrificing anything.<p>

Of course, where he left content with how things had gone, she remained in the spirit of marriage. She had referenced ideas of seeing if Thor might be a suitable match for someone, thought that a future marriage for him should be looked into.

Yet, she hadn't seen the motivation that had been underlying it. He had been clever. If he would carry out his plans, truly put Loki on the throne of Jotunheim as he had decided years ago, he needed a guarantee that he wouldn't abandon the Aesir and ally himself with the frost giants. He needed something that could bind Loki to them and the answer had presented itself when it was suggested that the Aesir unite with the Vanir. The oldest unwed daughter, so quiet and obedient, would serve the purpose.

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><p>They didn't move for what seemed an hour. She simply laid there, staring at him while he looked back at her. Conversation felt too awkward for her and he seemed content to keep the silence.<p>

She had been given expectations with marriage. Her mother had presented the worst possible scenarios, attempting to prepare her for what could lie in store. It hadn't been meant to frighten her, simply prepare her. Yet, he was not what she was expecting. He was distant, kind and trying to make the best of it. She knew she couldn't blame her for what happened and she felt he understood that she wasn't at fault for it either. They were simply two people put into a situation neither wanted.

"So," she began casually, unsure of how exactly she could make a smooth transition into conversation.

"Yes?"

"Marriage," she said with a barely there laugh. "I mean, I don't have any expectations."

He nodded and she wished he might say something so that she wasn't the only one forced into making awkward opening statements. Yet he continued to remain silent and she couldn't take that. Silence between her and a man who she hardly knew but would be sharing her bed for the indefinite future was torture to her. So, without any really cue, she began to talk about the time of Vanaheimr, detailing the nature that she remembered her home for.

She was surprised when he listened, nodding at this and that, murmuring understanding. He only spoke when she finished her recollection, unable to go on without crying a little. "I heard once that the Vanir could see the future."

"It comes and goes," she said. "When the future demands to be heard, it comes to us in dreams, otherwise, nothing."

He nodded.

"I can't help you, you realize," she said, suddenly feeling the need to put forth a disclaimer. "I cannot control what I see and when I see it. I cannot be at your beck and call to see the future."

"I wouldn't do such a thing to you." He reached out and touched cheek. "I must say though, I have expectations of you."

"What?" She squeaked.

"Your secrecy." He withdrew his hand. "Last night, I told you things I would prefer not to have repeated. I would like to continue to do so but I must have a promise that what I say will not be something for you to gossip."

"I promise." Her fingers curled around the sheets. "I can have your word that you won't speak of what I tell you, then?"

"Of course."

"I want something else."

"What?"

She inched closer, her voice quiet. "I want your promise that you will be loyal to me."

He raised an eyebrow. "And why should I promise that?"

"Because I promise to always be loyal to you."

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><p>She sat in his rooms, running through one the books that he had taken from the library without any intention to return it. She had gotten a third of the way through when he came in, tossing the golden helmet he wore to the ground, letting it clang against the floor. She glanced up, pushing the book aside.<p>

"What is it?"

"Father intends to have Thor be his heir," he spat. "He overlooks everything that Thor has done." He ran a hand through his hair, collapsing into a chair. "Thor could incite war and he would be forgiven. If I did so much as break a cup, it would take years for me to be forgiven."

She rose, gliding towards him. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and she pressed her cheek against his. "He is the eldest. It is expected."

"He is unfit to be king."

"I know, love." The same conversation had played out before in their marriage and Sigyn wanted to consider herself an expert at unwinding his rage. "But it is always the Allfather's choice and it will be his fault if he makes the wrong one."

He reached back, touching her hair, fingers gliding across her skin as they pulled back. "That's why your mother wanted you to marry him, to be a queen."

"I would rather be the wife of the second prince than a queen of his." She kissed his cheek.

"Sigyn."

She unwound her arms though he kept hold of her hand, leading her around towards him, pulling her down onto his lap. "You will have your moment to prove yourself, I promise you."

He frowned. "Have you seen something?"

"Snippets."

"And?"

"You need patience, love."

He held onto her. "I try. I try to be patient."

"Try harder," she said, pressing her palm against his cheek.


End file.
